


long list of starbucks lovers

by siempreniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: High School AU, M/M, little baby crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siempreniall/pseuds/siempreniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for the annual Secret Santa in band class and Niall's got a history of bad gifts, Harry's got a cute smile, Zayn's got the in, Louis's got a Thing about fuzzy handcuffs, and Liam hasn't got a clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	long list of starbucks lovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goodmorningbeloved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorningbeloved/gifts).



> For the prompt: "maybe a high school type of AU where Niall and Harry are paired as each other's Secret Santa, but they're too shy to go up and actually talk to each other, they try to find out what the other one likes secretly? (and maybe sometimes it's awkward because Niall asks Louis and Louis, as a joke, tells Niall that Harry would like a pair of handcuffs oh man i don't know the possibilities are endless."
> 
> Hope it's what you wanted! My brain's a bit fried thanks to end-of-the-semester exhaustion, but it turned out pretty jolly, I think!

Niall’s not even paying attention as he reaches his hand into the upturned Santa hat full of little pieces of paper. Louis’s going on some rant about some mark he thinks he’s unfairly got and those usually distract Niall for a few minutes; Louis’s the funniest guy Niall knows. So he’s laughing one of his better laughs (the wide-grin, deep chuckle one) when he finally looks down at the name he’s chosen, and he nearly chokes on his own gasp.

“What? What is it?” Zayn asks next to him, hitting him on the back. Niall’s choked on enough food during his school career for everyone to not freak out.

“I just got my Santa Secret pick…” he finally gets out after Liam hands him a water bottle to drink from.

“If Myrtle’s always going to rig it so that you get her then I don’t know why she’s still allowed-”

“It’s not Myrtle,” Niall sighs as he holds out his hand so Louis can see the name.

He barks out a hearty laugh without covering his mouth, just as Niall had expected, and Niall for his part just leans back in his seat and stares at the ceiling.

**

“I don’t get it,” Liam says through a mouthful of chicken nuggets at lunch, “So you got Harry Styles. It’s not a big deal,”

“Yeah, Liam, it’s totally fine that I’ve got the kid I’ve been crushing on for three years for Secret Santa. This is fine; nothing can go wrong,”

“What, are you going to give him a gift card to GameStop and the moment that it touches his hand he’s going to realize you’ve had the hots for him since year nine?”

“Fuck you,” Niall says back, kicking him under the table, and consequently missing. Of fucking course.

“I think it’s cute,” Louis smiles, in that way that makes you think he’s not quite human, “You could use it to jumpstart our school’s next cutest romance. First-chair clarinettist going out with the weird guy who somehow convinced the band director that she needed someone to play the guitar. I think it’s adorable,”

“No one asked what you think,” Niall mumbles before biting into his sandwich.

“I know why you’re freaking out,” Zayn says, finally—always the voice of reason, “At the same time, you have to understand that it’s not like Harry is gonna think anything of this gift. Everyone in band hates Secret Santa. As long as you don’t give him something shitty then you’ll at least leave him with a good first impression?”

“Yeah, but first I have to figure out how to not give someone a shitty gift,”

**

It’s not that Niall doesn’t think through his gifts, it’s not that he doesn’t care or rushes to get them the day before. They just always seem to go wrong. It’s not a matter of _if_ a present from Niall will backfire, rather _when_ or _how_. He’s spectacular at it, really – giving horrible gifts in new and exciting ways each time.

There was the expensive perfume that gave his mother migraines, the watch that turned his father’s wrist green, the bouquet of flowers he gave to a date that had a small ant colony living in it. Each time he handed the gifts over with a smile and the confidence that _this_ time it would be different. And each time his smile quickly faded as something undeniably went wrong.

Now he gives gift cards.

**

The radio’s blaring as they ride home from school together and, of course, the topic of discussion has turned to how helpless Niall is.

“How about sexy dice? Booty shorts? Fluffy handcuffs?” So then Louis’s about as helpful as always.

“How about a tenner with your number written on the back,” Liam chimes in from the back.

“A packet of condoms? A tube of lube…”

That earns Louis a swift thump in the chest.

“Gross,” Niall says, sticking his tongue out. Coming to terms with liking boys has been easy in a lot of ways for him. His friends have been supportive and his parents didn’t really mind when he let it slip (accidentally on purpose) so there’s a lot that’s gone right for him. But he hasn’t really moved past the crush stage of anything yet. He still gets excited by the thought of someone kissing him, hugging him close, holding his hand, liking him back. Sex hasn’t really crossed his mind yet, not plausibly or tangibly. Not any more than his own hand down his shorts. Now, it’s just staring at Harry from across the band room. He’ll get to the lube when he gets there.

“Well what does Harry actually like?” Zayn asks after Louis finishes his list of Christmas gifts Niall wouldn’t even be able to legally buy.

“I don’t know,” Niall slumps back in his seat. “I know… he likes wearing nice sweaters and fucking around on his phone and playing the clarinet really well,”

“Well that narrows down the list, surely,”

“Shut it,” Niall groans, “I mean, I’ve never even talked to him! I just know what I can see in homeroom. Which, granted, isn’t a lot. But still!”

“Yeah,” Louis interjects, of course, “What else was Niall supposed to do? Go up to him? Talk to him? What in the world could they possibly talk about, besides the fact they go to the same school and live in the same town and play for the same band and…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We fucking get it,”

Sometimes Niall regrets having Louis drive him home.

**

“What do you get someone for Christmas if you have no idea what they’d like?” Niall asks over dinner.

His mother drops her fork into her potatoes, “Oh, dear, how in the world did you get Myrtle _again_?”

“Actually, not this time,” Niall smiles, “It’s someone new… this kid named Harry,”

“And you don’t know anything about him?”

“Nothing useful,”

“How do you know absolutely nothing about someone who’s in the same class as you?”

Niall’s eyes bug out and he shrugs, pushing the carrots on the plate around.

“I mean, I know a lot of stuff but nothing useful! I can’t exactly buy him a clarinet case for less than ten quid,”

“Nothing? Not his favourite movie, his most-played CD, not even his favourite class in school?”

“No!”

“And you can’t just ask him?”

Jesus Christ, she’s as bad as Liam, “No, ma! I can’t just go up and ask him!”

“And why not?”

“Because… because…” He doesn’t really feel like going into the whole “giant crush” thing at the moment, so he tries to steer around it, “Because then he’ll guess that I’m his Santa!”

“Well, don’t just get them a gift _anyone_ can use if you can help it. Letting someone feel special, remembered, loved… that’s how you truly make someone’s Christmas,”

“Yeah, that always works out so great for me,” Niall huffs.

“What? Like the dinner we had the other week off my Nando’s gift card didn’t make me feel special?”

**

Zayn’s the editor of the yearbook, and he seems to have the same questionable morals as Niall, so he has no trouble running down to the guidance office to grab a copy of Harry’s schedule.

“You’re a fucking godsend,” Niall whispers as he reads off the freshly-printed paper.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn waves him off, “Just don’t tell Louis I gave it to you. He’s been bothering me to use my editor privileges on him, and I don’t even know why. Don’t want to know, really,”

“He’s got band as his homeroom, duh. And maths after that, honors English. Hey, he’s smart!”

“That makes one of you,”

“Shut it. Psych, first lunch, then gov, then yearbook, and finally yoga. Wait, Zayn, _yearbook_?”

“Yeah, he’s the design editor,”

“Holy shit, you’ve never said he was on that!”

Zayn shrugs, “You never asked,”

“Did I really have to?”

“I dunno, we don’t talk much. He hangs out with his friends going over the layout and stuff, and we only talk really during editorial meetings like once a week. Our conversation topics don’t usually include what his favourite artist is or what size sweater he wears,”

“Do you think you could, like, get me in for the period?”

“You’re insane,”

**

Louis works on a fake pass out of Niall’s gym class during all of audio theory, just for Mr. Tandry to glance at it for three seconds and let him in without a word.

“What horrible excuse did you use?” Zayn asks as he leads him back towards his workspace.

“I’m thinking about taking this class next year and want to find out what it’s like,”

“You’re graduating,”

“So,”

“God, just, take a seat. He usually rolls in a few minutes late,”

“And your teacher doesn’t care?”

“As long as we put out the book? No,”

Zayn is busy and Harry is late. Mr. Tandry doesn’t even blink as he walks through the door with his earbuds in.

“You’re the editor, shouldn’t you, like, reprimand him for being late?”

Zayn doesn’t even look up from the article he’s editing as he answers, “No. He gets his shit done faster than everyone else. If he didn’t, I would. But he does, so I don’t,”

Harry walks back to a line of computers in the back and takes his seat, turning to look back at Zayn and Niall. Niall quickly looks away, feigning interest in the line of posters along the wall.

“So what, exactly, are you planning to get out of this period?” Zayn asks.

“Dunno. Maybe thought he would come over, hand us a list he wrote for Santa that he needs mailed or something,”

Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Just let me hang out, okay. I won’t annoy you,”

Niall does learn a few things over the course of fifty minutes: Harry has poor posture, he likes to ruffle his hair, he eats two bananas a day (at least), he’s the slowest typer Niall’s ever seen besides his grandparents, and that’s pretty much it.

Harry doesn’t so much as talk to anyone during the class, and especially not about his interests or what he’s asked his parents to give him for Christmas. He doesn’t use his time on the computer to go on Amazon or listen to music, like nearly every other student in the school. As the bell rings Niall feels almost more confused than ever.

But finally, just before Zayn powers down his laptop and packs up his books, Harry walks over.

“Hey, Zayn,” he says as he knocks his hand into Zayn’s shoulder, “I’m about finished on the aquatics page,”

“Okay,” Zayn says back, not even looking up from his bag, “Do you think you can have all the winter sports done before break?”

“Probably. Ashley still has to get some pics to me,”

“Of course she does,”

“But after that, I should be good to go,”

“Great,” Zayn says, finally, looking up to smile at Harry, then Niall.

“You aren’t in this class, are you?” Harry says after a beat.

“Uh, well,” Niall stumbles, “I’m trying out the class, in case I want to add it to my schedule next year,”

Harry’s eyes narrow, “Aren’t you graduating?”

“Details, details,”

Harry laughs, and it makes Niall want to die. How his eyes brighten and his smile goes wide and goofy. He even laughs cute, that fucker.

“Hey,” Harry says suddenly, “Is that a Derby County bag?”

Niall looks down at his backpack – the one he’s had since beginning secondary school, “Yeah, it is. Love the Rams,”

“Isn’t that a bit funny? Someone from Ireland supporting Derby, the middle of nowhere, England?”

Niall laughs, “Something wrong with that?”

“Nothing… just something funny, s’all. See ya later, Zayn and…”

It takes a second for Niall to figure out what’s supposed to come next.

“Niall!” he says quickly, offering his hand for Harry to shake.

“Harry, and you’re first-chair guitarist, yeah?”

“I mean, I’m only-chair guitarist but…”

“Details, details. See ya later, Niall,”

Harry leaves quickly out the door as Niall and Zayn stay sat at the desk.

“He knew your name,” Zayn says as he puts his bag on his back.

“What?”

“I’m just saying,” Zayn continues as they walk out the door, “He definitely knew your name before,”

**

“So let’s go over your options,” Liam says over pizza on Louis’s bedroom floor, “He likes… the clarinet. So you can get him a clarinet-thing?”

“Yes, Liam, musical instruments are known for having parts under ten quid,”

“Um, well, how about something for his camera?”

“He doesn’t actually take the pictures,” Zayn adds from his spot on the bed, “He just arranges them,”

“Well, Zayn, you’ve been just about as helpful as a piece of shit. What have you got to offer?”

“Dunno, just get him something normal. A candy bar, some chapstick, a pair of funny socks? Fuck, Niall, I don’t know. It’s just a Christmas present,”

“He knew who Derby County was,” Liam tries again, “so he obviously likes football. Can you do anything with that?”

“Not if I don’t know his team!”

Louis mumbles something along the lines of “Fuzzy handcuffs are universal,” Niall hits him with a pillow.

**

The thing about Harry is Niall doesn’t even know why he likes him so much.

They’ve talked maybe a handful of times, and never about anything important. And he knows, objectively and probably subjectively too, that Harry is good looking. He’s got long hair, shining eyes, milky-smooth skin, fresh pink lips, and legs that just don’t stop. But there’re quite a few fit boys at school and none of them knock him off his feet quite like Harry. He walks past them both in awe and envious of their perfectly-styled quiffs and bright teeth. Harry, though… Niall hasn’t been able to keep his mind off of him ever since he got first-chair.

And he wonders if it’s some deep-vested desire to be as musically-gifted or smart or accomplished as Harry. Maybe it’s how he can focus for an entire class period on something that he loves, whereas Niall is sure he’d be years ahead on the guitar if it weren’t for Louis distracting him every ten seconds. Mostly, though, he just thinks it’s that Harry looks like an Angel, and acts like one too. That he helps Mrs. Monroe without being asked, that he offered to tutor Louis in reading music so that he’d be less behind, and that Louis made fun of him for both things, yet Harry didn’t take it to heart.

Harry’s just special and makes his belly flip.

**

“The concert is tomorrow,” Liam annoyingly reminds him, “Have you bought Harry a gift yet?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “No, thank you for being my agenda, though,”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m getting Jillin Reber some lotion that Lottie picked up at the mall,” Louis offers.

“No, that does not make me feel better. I don’t want Jillin Reber to have a bad Christmas just because Harry will!”

“Niall, literally, if you do not stop acting like your gift is the end-all of gifts for Harry I will shove my foot in your mouth,”

Niall’s about to challenge Louis to try when Zayn enters into view, with Harry by his side. Louis’s eyes narrow.

“What are _they_ doing together?”

And, really, Niall doesn’t know. Zayn had told him that he doesn’t really talk to most people in yearbook outside of the classroom, and especially not Harry. But now they look they’re in a secret discussion about God knows what, and it’s taking all Niall has to not walk over and see.

“A yearbook thing? Maybe?” Niall offers.

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “I thought he said that they don’t talk outside of class?”

“Yeah, well,” Niall starts and stops. Harry finally looks in their direction and Niall looks away fast, a bit perplexed and embarrassed all the same. He interests himself in the pattern of the brick on the wall next to him, only breaking his gaze when he can hear Zayn walk over.

“So…” Niall starts, “That?”

Zayn doesn’t even flinch. “That what?”

“Talking with Harry,” Louis clarifies, loudly.

“What about it?”

“I don’t want you to go asking him what he wants! Then he’ll know it’s me and he’ll think I’m trying too hard!” Niall whines. And he knows he sounds a bit like a brat (and a bit like Louis) but he hasn’t invested this much time and effort into Harry’s non-existent gift for Zayn to muck it all up right at the end.

“We were just talking about yearbook stuff! How can you get so defensive over something that literally has no importance whatsoever?”

“Fuck, Zayn, why don’t you get that it has importance to _me_ , even if everyone else treats it like a joke or a bore. I just want to buy someone a good present for once in their life!”

Zayn  shrugs, “Just get the kid a Starbucks gift card,”

“Oh, how fucking rich, Zayn,”

“I’m being serious! I know he drinks coffee and, although you might think it’s a copout, it really just means it’s something he’ll actually use. As opposed to the book of fart jokes Liam’s getting Mason Elroy,”

“Hey!” Niall hears Liam squeak indignantly.

“But-”

“You don’t have to do what I say, Niall, but you haven’t bought a present yet and the exchange is tomorrow after the show. What other idea do you possibly have?”

**

Niall stands in the auditorium lobby in his white button-down and black trousers, in the sea of other students in the white button-downs and their black trousers. The Christmas concert was a raging success—as much as a high school band could make a success—with only a few dull notes and late entrances scattered throughout. In particular, Niall thought the woodwind section sounded great.

His mother and father found him shortly after they did their final bow and the curtain closed on them. They hugged him and kissed him and made the same joke as always: “Guess those painful first few years of wrong keys and missed pitches is finally over, huh?” It’d been over for a while now, and these always seem to forget that. They leave with him with a pat on his back to drive home with Louis, and after they’re out of sight he searches for Harry.

Harry’s standing in a corner, talking to two people Niall assumes are his parents. They’re a nice-looking family with their pretty coats, goofy smiles, and big hugs. Niall leans against a wall and (creepily) watches them and waits for them to leave. Finally, his parents kiss Harry goodbye and walk away, without him.

“Hey!” Niall starts, solidly, as he walks up to Harry with shaky knees, “Good show, yeah?”

Harry smiles, “It was alright. Niall, right?”

“Yeah, anyways,” he reaches, ever so stealthily, into his backpack and pulls out the red and green envelope. It’s even tied with a gold ribbon so that Niall would feel less shitty about it. “Ho ho ho?”

“Ah, you’re my Secret Santa!” Niall nods and hands the envelope over. He finds himself holding his breath as Harry undoes the bow and opens the card. And, happily, Harry doesn’t immediately  shriek in disappointment.

“Did I do alright? I mean, it’s just a gift card but…”

“Are you kidding me? It’s great! Last year Pippa Root got me socks. I mean, they had dogs on them, but still!”

“So you’re saying my gift card is better than dog socks?”

“I mean, if they were socks _for_ dogs then it’d be a bit debatable, but no this is a really brilliant gift. God knows my mum hates how much I spend here, this can get her off my back for a week or two,”

Niall laughs and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He finally did it; he did well. And in front of Harry, no less.

“Yeah I like those things they have. The coffee with the foam on top…”

“Lattes?”

“Yeah, lattes! Like, the one with the caramel in it. Makes you forget you’re drinking coffee, if I’m honest,”

“Do you want to go get one, then?” Harry asks, without even missing a beat.

“Yeah… wait, seriously?”

Harry shrugs, “Why not, I’ve got nothing else to do for the night,”

“So right now?” Niall says, and he feels a bit daft.

“Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“No I… a coffee sounds really good right now, thanks. I just have to wait for my Secret Santa to bring me my present,”

“Don’t bother,” Harry says as he pulls on his backpack, “Most people forget to bring theirs to the concert. Let’s just go now, yeah?”

**

They leave the school quickly, out the front door blending in with all the other families and students. Niall shoots off a quick text to Louis, telling him he doesn’t need a ride home. Then shuts off his phone, because he doesn’t need any follow-up questions from Louis even more.

The walk to Starbucks is short and cold. Harry has mean long legs and walks fast, and Niall hurries to keep up. They’re both bundled up nicely with scarves wrapped around their faces and mittens jammed on their hands. Niall thinks they make a nice-looking couple, hopes he’s right.

The restaurant is bursting with warmth when they walk in. It’s a little busy already with the post-concert crowd, but they order their drinks and are able to snag a booth in the corner. And then…

Well, in all of the dreams and imaginings that Niall has had of this moment, of sitting down (alone) with Harry and being able to do anything in the world, he guesses he’s never imagined what to actually say. He always thought it’d come naturally. They could just sit down and pour their hearts out to each other, saying what they’ve been holding back. But Niall’s been dying to say “Hey, I think you’re fit as hell and want to push you over the piano in the band room and snog you senseless,”

He doesn’t think it’d be wise to lead with that.

“So how do you know Zayn?” Harry asks, finally, after taking a sip of his hot chocolate. It leaves a little foam on the top of his lip and Niall just wants to lean over and lick it off.

“We were on the same footy team when I moved over here in year eight. And we were both quite shit at it so we sat on the bench together a lot. You just meet him on the yearbook crew?”

“Yeah, he’s an amazing editor. Pretty good guy, too, I reckon, if you approve of him,”

Niall’s eyebrows raise as he takes another sip, “If _I_ approve of him? Why me?”

“Dunno, you always seemed like a pal, you know? You’re nice to all the teachers, you’ve got loads of friends, I’ve never heard about you stuffing someone’s locker with toilet roll-”

“Louis apologized for that!”

“You just seem like a nice guy. I mean, you don’t even care what others think. You support Derby County, for Christ’s sake!”

“Hey!” Niall yells, a bit more forcefully than planned, “Nothing wrong with the Rams!”

“Nooooo, of course not!” Harry laughs as he reaches down under the table and unzips his backpack, “Speaking of,”

When his hand comes up, it’s holding a present. Crudely-wrapped, but a present all the same.

Niall puts his drink back on the table so he doesn’t do something stupid, like drop it.

“What’s this?”

Harry smiles; it’s blinding. “Ho ho ho?”

“Are you… are you my Secret Santa?”

“Something like that, open it up!”

Niall eyes the package. It’s oddly shaped and barely looks like the wrapping is being held together.

“Don’t mind the wrapping job. It was really hard and even this piece of shit end result took me about half an hour, so,”

Niall unwraps it slowly, trying not to make a mess of their table, until he sees a spot of grey fur, some black cotton, green wool…

“Holy shit!” he yelps as the realization dawns on him, “It’s a Derby County teddy bear… wearing a tricolour cap,”

“It’s great, right?” Harry asks, and he’s got this smile on his face so large, so toothy, so genuine that it makes Niall want to kiss him more than ever before.

“Great? Jesus fucking… how did you even know?”

“That day in the yearbook studio? You said you love them. And, well you’re Irish so,” he bops the hat’s pom pom, “My mom offered to knit that,”

“Yeah but… this is amazing gift, my God. I mean, I gave you a Starbucks card! Do you know who else gives teenagers Starbucks cards? Third cousins you’ve never met and shitty Secret Santas!”

“Listen, Niall, it’s not…”

“Harry, you got me a personalized gift! You put time into this! Your mother fucking… knit my teddy bear a hat! And I ran out to this very shop yesterday after school and spent ten quid on a card,”

“Because I asked for it!” Harry finally yells.

“What? What about it?”

“On Thursday, when you saw me with Zayn…”

“Oh, Jesus! I told him not to ask you!”

“He didn’t. I told him on my own,”

Niall pauses, then thinks, and doesn’t come up with any explanation.

“You mean…”

“The day when we all picked Secret Santas, you and your friends stared at me for, like, five straight minutes after you got your name. It wasn’t hard to figure out,”

“Why did you ask for a Starbucks card, then?”

Harry flings his hands up in the air, “Niall! What do you think this is?” He gestures to the two of them with his hands, then gestures to the coffees, and then the whole room.

And then Niall gets it.

“Holy shit,” Niall whispers as his eyes grow wide, “Are we on a date?”

“Thank God, I’m not in love with an idiot,”

Niall’s mouth hangs open, maybe a tad too long, before he says, “So, does this mean we can kiss now?”

Harry just shakes his head and leans it, grabbing Niall by the back of the neck and bringing their lips together in what Niall knows he will later call the Best Kiss of His Life. Harry’s hands are big and gentle, his lips are soft, and his smells faintly of a mixture between cinnamon gum and the coffee he ordered. And when they pull apart, Niall leans back in before he can stop himself.

**

“So,” Niall starts as they walk home together, “You know what doesn’t make sense?”

“What,” Harry answers back, though it’s slightly muffled by the scarf Niall’d looped around his neck.

“How we got each other in what’s supposed to be a random Secret Santa,”

Harry laughs and it makes his eyes crinkle. He pulls down his scarf so he can talk clearly.

“Okay, okay. I’ll fess up. Once I figured out that you had picked my name, I wanted to get you too. So I switched with Miranda Riley because I ‘got Tyler Alderman and didn’t know anything about him,’”

“How did you know she had me?”

“Because she asked me what scent of hand lotion an Irish person would like,”

Niall snorts, “Is there a difference?”

“I was going to tell her something about potatoes or Guinness, instead I just asked to trade,”

“Just so you could buy me a gift?”

Harry shrugs, “Pretty much,”

“You’re fucking smart, mate,”

“Well, when you have one shot to impress some guy you’ve had a crush on since ninth year, you just kinda have to go for it,”

“Oh, really?” Niall says, with a smirk on his face and confidence warming him up, “Tell me about this guy,”

“He’s got bright hair and even brighter smile,”

“Oh?”

“Hmm, and he’s got the cutest Irish accent and thinks of others and, Jesus, whenever he plays the guitar I get distracted by fingers and how it seems to come so naturally to him,”

“And do you think he has a chance of going out with you after Christmas?”

“I… think something could be arranged,”

Niall looks over at Harry, at his big, dumb face with its stupidly cute smile and knows that he’s done for.

**

They kiss at the end of Niall’s street, hands tied together and laughing with giddiness. Harry tells Niall to call him, then runs back when he realizes they never exchanged numbers.

Niall walks through his front door feeling like he’s walking on a cloud. His home smells like cinnamon; it brings back memories.

“Niall, love, you home?” his mum yells.

He starts walking up the stairs, his bag on his back and his teddy in his arms. “Yeah, ma! It’s me!”

“Louis came by earlier,” she continues, and that stops Niall dead in his tracks.

“Why?”

“He told us you left with another group of friends, which frankly I didn’t know you have, but he gave us a gift for you. I placed it on your bed,”

“Wha- why?” he whispers to himself.

He runs up the stairs to find a square box, wrapped in purple and navy, sitting on his bed. With trembling fingers he picks up the tag.

 _Happy Xmas to my Starbucks lovers._  
Be merry, be safe, and be quiet.  
xx –Lou

Niall’s not even looking as he open the box, and he’s barely even peeked inside before he shrieks and throws it on the bed.

Slowly—and in true Louis fashion—a pink, fuzzy pair of handcuffs falls out.


End file.
